


In Every Generation

by sasha_b



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Comment Fic, F/M, Foreshadowing, Gen, Pre-Series, Prompt Fic, little!Charlie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:13:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2368913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_b/pseuds/sasha_b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles, little Charlie, and a doll.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Every Generation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the LJ community NBC Revolution's prompt table challenge. Prompt: _showgirl_.
> 
> Pre-series.

Miles watches little Charlie play with her doll. Or is it a Barbie? He’s not really sure what the girl calls them. He picks up the things Rachel asks him to get at the Wal Mart on the way over, and the little girl always lights up like he’d brought her the world.

“It’s just a doll,” he’d murmur, embarrassed, as Charlie would fling her arms around his neck and shriek a delighted _thank you Uncle Miles_ into his ear.

Rachel always kissed his cheek when he did as he was bidden; he pulled away quickly, not wanting to linger too long over something that looked odd to him, that felt odd. He loved his brother, too, so kissing on his brother’s wife wasn’t something he wanted to do all the time. Even if she was pretty and smelled good and had legs that went on for fucking days. Even Bass had remarked on that.

Charlie kicks the doll/Barbie/whatevers legs in the air with her hands, and after a minute, Miles hunkers down and narrows his eyes. “She some kind of dancer?” he asks the little girl. Her blond hair hangs in her face, and Miles tucks it back away from her eyes, gently, the slight curls waving around her chubby cheeks, red from exertion and excitement over the new doll.

“No, Uncle Miles. She’s practicing her karate, duh.”

He coughs, hiding a laugh with the sound, and purses his lips. “Yeah? Why? Ninja’s coming to town?”

“No. There isn’t any light, and that means vampires.”

Miles cocks his head. Why would she make up a game like that? Maybe she’s been sneaking to watch re-runs of Buffy (a show he and Ben had loved to watch, if only for the hot blond and the moves she had) while her parents aren’t paying attention. He looks up and meets Rachel’s eyes – they’re stricken and worried and she’s gnawed her lip until it’s bleeding.

“Ok, Charlie,” Miles says. “Best keep that round house in top form.” He stands and pats her head, half listening as she makes _kiyah!_ noises, the Barbie/doll/vampire slayer/whatever better at martial arts than Miles had ever hoped to be.

He crosses to Rachel and stops in front of her. “No lights?”

“It’s nothing,” she says, but her face says something different. “Don’t worry about it. Too much TV at night.”

Miles nods, but the two of them stay watching Charlie playing, arms crossed, unwilling to leave her alone until Ben arrives, white faced and tired, a small case in his hands, a leather thong slipping out between the halfway closed clasp.

Miles goes to distract Charlie, but he catches sight of a weird looking pendant pulled from the box that Ben carries even as he shuts the kitchen door, effectively separating Miles and Charlie from his and Rachel’s conversation.

“That’s okay, Charlie,” Miles says to her (to himself, really), “let’s go kick some vampire ass. We don’t need them.” He scoops her up over his shoulder, the little girl giggling, the doll hitting him repeatedly in the back as they march up the stairs to Charlie’s room.


End file.
